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I suppose they were used by the fruits of what went on in the main bedroom.” We had a look at a couple of other much smaller bedrooms. “Servants rooms,” Cleo announced. Inspection of a mighty bathroom followed, and like the bed in my room the old cast iron bath looked as if it had been custom made to accommodate four or more people. An obviously recently installed shower seemed to simper coyly in the corner. The last port of call was the toilet. This contained not only the toilet, but a hand. My god, I loved her.Two days later I had a council of war at the bar. I'd done a lot of that in the past couple of years. We even had our preferred booth, where no one could overhear our conversations.Present was me, Simon, Jonathan Bruty and, amazingly, Solomon, who was in town. I hadn't known he was around till he called me.He showed up late, with this girl in tow who was in full school uniform, and couldn't have been more than sixteen, although he did assure us later that she most assuredly. The room was filled with her excited yells. In the silence of the night, her cries appeared so loud that I was afraid that our parents might hear her moans downstairs. She thrust her pussy upward. My tongue, lips and entire chin was soaked with the sweet nectar her cunt was producing in abundance. If I had any inhibitions about putting my tongue into a woman’s cunt, I could not remember it. I pushed my tongue up into her fuck-hole with a rush that made her gasp aloud. I kept pushing my tongue. One of my professors, a young guy who I admired, wore summer suits of khaki. He drove a new Jaguar sedan and seemed real Ivy League. He was the guy who would eventually talk me into quitting college and going to discover myself in the school of hard knocks. He never did himself, the turkey, but Uncle Sam got me before his ideology did and I was Army bound. But anyway.I had to go into school with wet pants I couldn’t see behind me to discover just how bad it was. Here I was fearing meeting Linda.
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